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The Ferret
Feb 4, 2006
781
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30 May 1453 – Somewhere off the Coast of Africa

I hope you can hear me. This is Rupert Wainscoting, coming to you from the main deck of the Santiago Maior, somewhere off the Coast of Africa. Where? Well, that I can't tell you. The Portuguese are an insular lot, and I've been blindfolded for weeks! Now, the blindfold is off, and we're in a squall. Waves are literally crashing over the side, and we're all starting to look like so many drowned cats. Apparently, we spotted a turn in the coast a few days ago, and are following it. Captain Alvaro Fernandes, can you give us some idea of where we are?

No.

Well, there you have it. A mystery inside an enigma, onboard a very small ship with a very small, smelly Portuguese man. Back to you in the studio.



Thanks for that, Rupert. We’re here with government minister Antonio Francisco de Brito. Now, reports are coming in telling us that the Medici family of Florence have been sending funds in support of Portuguese exploration. However, allegations have arisen that King Afonso’s cartographers have been sending the Italian city-state falsified maps. Mr de Brito, are you able to confirm your maps’ authenticity?

No.

So, are you sending the Florentines false maps of Africa?


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No.

So, why then the guardedness over their authenticity?

You must see it from our view. There are things which are known. These are the known things. Then there are the things which are not known. These are the not known things. Between these two polarities sit the things which may and may not be. When we commission a map, ships are sent out. Points slide along this continuum. Things that are not known may now be, and things which previously only might have been become known. Beyond that, some known things might indeed become things which only might be, and things which might have been become known to not exist. Yes?

Well, there you have it… Whatever… it… was. We now go to… No, I’m sorry. We’re just getting word of some developments in Valladolid. We’re joined there by our correspondent Frances Franklin.



Yes, thank you, Nigel. We’re here with the Portuguese embassy in Valladolid where an alliance has been formed between the Castilian and Portuguese kingdoms. Following months of speculation and weeks of negotiation, the terms have been ironed out, the disagreements agreed, the paper signed, and the ink dried. Senor Ruiz, the Castilian Minister of State, has agreed to meet with us to discuss the impact of today’s developments.

Mr Ruiz, firstly, thank you for taking time out of your busy day to meet with us.

’S okay.

Quite an exciting day for you.

’S okay.

Do you think this agreement sees an end to tensions on your western borders?

We have no quarrel with the Portuguese. They are a cute little country.

So, would you say then that you don’t see your two states as equals in international affairs?

When one steps on an insect, one feels badly about the affair, but one does not question the worthiness of the particular insect’s existence. One merely wipes one’s shoe.

So, would you compare Portugal to an insect?

A most noble insect, to be sure. A butterfly perhaps. Not a small, ugly bug. A small, beautiful insect. We will try not to step on them. That is what today is about.

Thank you, Senor Ruiz. Well, there you have it. Perhaps not the air of mutual respect one might have hoped for, but a concord nonetheless. Back to the studio.


We’re actually going to turn you straight over to the Royal Palace in Lisboa, where King Afonso V has been meeting with top advisors. Can you hear me, Helen? What’s been happening?



Well, to be honest, we’re not exactly sure. The king called together his inner circle a few hours ago. That was followed by several hours of deliberation. Courtiers have been in and out all afternoon. The air is ripe with excitement. We’re hoping that Garcia de Carvalho, the minister who has been in charge of exploration since the passing of Prince Henry, can give us more information. Mr Carvalho? Mr Carvalho, would you wait a moment, please? Mr Carvalho…

(growing more distant) Our future lies beyond the seas, not in some dusty patch of North Africa!

Well, we’ve lost Mr Carvalho. It would seem that there was some sort of deliberation over Portugal’s somewhat archaic claims on North Africa. If Mr Carvalho’s outburst has carried any weight in the court, then we can expect more south, and less east, from Portugal in future. The Moroccans will be breathing a sigh of relief tonight.


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Wait… just a moment. We have a courtier coming this way!

News! News!

Excuse us! Sir? We’d just like to… (sound of a door opening and closing) No, I’m afraid we’ve lost him. No, wait. He’s just emerged again. Sir, could you give us any information as to that missive you were carrying?

That would be improper. And most likely illegal. (A cheer erupts from within the court) Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. The Azores have received their civic charter. Our second colony is now part of our realm! It is a great day, Madam.


(the cries and cheers of a small group of people)

Hello! This is Victor McVitie, live in the Azores, where word of the civic charter went out some hours ago. The residents of the capital are out in their dozens, the wine has been opened, and the atmosphere is… well, I wouldn’t say electric. But the few people who actually live on this godforsaken bunch of rocks at the earth’s edge have certainly got their party hats on tonight!



Well, we’ve brought in our Portuguese expert, Carlos Gustavo, for analysis and insight. Carlos, exciting times in Portugal.

To be sure, Nigel. The southness and the westness of it all is wonderful.

Yes. You’re a bit of an insider. Can you give us any indication as to how far south the Portuguese intend on going?

How South is South? How long is a piece of string? Perhaps there is no end to South? Perhaps we will sail on forever. Perhaps we will find the end of the earth. Perhaps we will emerge at the top from the bottom. The only thing that is certain is that every new discovery brings new glory to great Portugal. It is our destiny to rule this world.

That’s a bit optimistic, isn’t it? I mean, Castile wouldn’t be happy to hear you say that.

Yes, but Castile? Really! Come now. Castile will never discover anything.

Well, there you have it. From the proverbial horse’s mouth. Portugal, one. Castile, nil point.


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Last edited:
Yes! Its here!
Very interesting style by the way.
 
You must see it from our view. There are things which are known. These are the known things. Then there are the things which are not known. These are the not known things. Between these two polarities sit the things which may and may not be. When we commission a map, ships are sent out. Points slide along this continuum. Things that are not known may now be, and things which previously only might have been become known. Beyond that, some known things might indeed become things which only might be, and things which might have been become known to not exist. Yes?

Brilliant satire. Reminds me a bit of the gibberdish our politicians use during the current -- and endless -- formation of the Belgian goverment.

Portugal 1 - Castille nil. That is so good to hear. ;)

I'm awestruck once more, isca.
 
Ahura Mazda said:
Is it safe to read this censored and top-secret material, I mean, could I get arrested for reading this? :eek:
Perhaps if you are a spy.

Are you a Castillian spy?
 
Well, this looks like a promising AAR, I'll stay tuned, same hour, same channel
 
ubik said:
I swear I am crying from too much laughing!!!!! :rofl:



This guy is absolutely BRILLIANT!
I agree. You should definitely see his last AAR if you havent already.
 
Alas, it began too late to be eligible ;)

... and it looks like Isca is setting himself up as a most dangerous contender to himself :D
 

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15 March 1461 – The King is Dead! Long Live the King!

This is Helen Wupp. I’m outside the royal palace in Lisboa, where thousands of mourners have come to pay final homage to King Afonso V, the man who had ruled Portugal since his ascension in 1438, when he was just six years old. Now, twenty-three years later, the man who brought Portugal from the edge of the world to the centre of exploration and advancement lies dead.

Can you tell us what it’s like there right now?

Well, it’s chaos. Just chaos, Nigel. There are several women who have just thrown themselves from the city wall. Only a low portion of it, mind you. Next to the east gate stairs. Now… now they’re mounting the stairs. And the wall again. Annnnnnd… off they go again! The crowd seem to be goading them on now. They just keep throwing themselves off the wall, in some lemming-esque orgy of ritualised self-mutilation. Priests nearby are openly weeping, while small children point and laugh. It’s really like nothing I’ve seen before.

Wait a moment… There’s a young boy charging through the crowd. He’s shouting something.

The pope. The pope is dead! The pope is dead!

This is stunning, Nigel. It would seem the pope is dead, too. Two of the Christian world’s favourite sons, dead within weeks, perhaps moments, of each other.

The pope is dead! The pope is deeAAAAGGGGHHHH!

Oh dear. It seems that the women mourners have managed to dive right onto the little boy. It’s not pretty here, Nigel. Back to you in the studio.

Thanks for that, Helen. Yes, we can confirm that the pope is dead. The conclave has been called. The Castilian faction which controls the Curia would seem to have their pick of cardinals to succeed the late pontiff. Not a bad day for Castile, it must be said. Come the white smoke, there will be a new pope solidly on the side of the Iberians.

In other news, we take you to London, where Peter Pickering has posed a puzzler on the question of Parisian problems. Peter?


Nigel, thank you. We’re here in St James’ Palace where Henry VI has just received the bad news. France declared war on England, and once-stalwart friend Portugal has refused – I repeat, refused – to honour their century-old alliance. English jaws have dropped, France has grown bolder, and it must be said that Brittany is cautiously indifferent. I’m joined by the Right Honourable Earl of Sussex, Lord of Yorkshire Pudding, Marquis of Shepway. Lord Sussex, can you tell us the mood in the court just now?

The mood? The mood?! How the bloody hell do you think it is? We’ve got a monarch who’s off his rocker, French troops in Cornwall, and our only ally is Connacht! Connacht for <censored>’s sake. You’d think we could have at least managed Tyrone! Or Leinster! But no… Our dear beloved king makes an alliance with a people who herd sheep on cliff tops and wonder if it’ll ever stop raining!

So, is there any message you’d like to pass to the people of Portugal?

Thanks a <censored>in’ pantload, you stupid <censored>s. If I had me <censored>in’ way, you’d be getting a good <censored>in’ buggerin’ by France yourselves right now! When Castille drops your trousers and gives you a good seein’ to, and you come crying to us for <censored>in’ help, I can tell you where you’ll be told to <censored>in’ go! <Censored>in’ stupid <censored>s! It really does take the <censored>, you know? Really takes the <censored>in’ <censored>.

I’m not sure how much of that went through, but suffice it to say that the English nobility is a bit miffed with the new king, Joao II.

Thanks for that, Peter. Don’t think there will be any fruitcake under the tree this Christmas… ha ha… ha. Ha. We’ve been getting reports from Rupert Wainscoting all day, but our connection has been poor. We’re going to try to go to him now. Apologies for the signal quality. Rupert? Can? You? Hear? Us?

Th… s… upe… ainscot… Somewhe… the coas… of Afric… Wh…? I… n’t know. Th… …aptain has made so… ind of decision regarding… Timbuk… …E seems… have deci… gainst inland journeys. We’ve continued along the …oast… weeks now. The team of cartographers have been… day and ni… … … …


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We seem to have lost Rupert there. So to speak. If we get him back, we’ll be reconnecting. In the meantime, there is news of an election in Vienna.

This is Edna Pepys in Vienna. Well, another day, another election, another Habsburg. No real surprises it must be said.

Any strong contenders?

There was a goat named Otto who accidentally picked up the Palatinate vote on a technicality, but otherwise, the voting was straight down the line Austrian.

Sorry to pull you away, Edna. We’ve got Rupert back on. Rupert, where are you?

We’ve made landfall. Repeat, we have made landfall. They’re leaving a group here to set up a trading post. It’s an island group they’re calling Cape Verde. And I have to tell you, there’s nothing green about it. The only green in sight is the face of yours truly. I thought the sea was bad, but dry land suddenly feels like… (guttural sounds)hwuuuuhhhhhh… <choke> hnnnnnnnnggggg.


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Yes, we’ll have to leave Rupert again for a bit. While we have a bit of time, we thought it would be good to have a chat with our man from Lisboa, Carlos Gustavo. Cape Verde. Reactions?

Well, this is wonderful. Just wonderful. Europeans have never settled anywhere so far south. The southness is wonderful. Grand.

Have you been to sea, Carlos? Can you tell us what they’re going through out there?

Well, I’ve been swimming in the sea. And under the sea. But I’ve never been on the sea, or out to sea. I imagine it to be different.

Yes. Well. Thanks for that… insight. We’ve got some news from Lisboa. Helen, can you tell us what’s happened?

Not exactly. The cardinals have been meeting with the king. There seems to be some concern over a German carpenter. Something about nails. We’re still waiting for details. Just a moment. Here comes a priest. Father? Father? Can you answer some questions for us?

But of course, my child.

What’s going on?

I do not understand.

There seems to be a great deal of concern amongst the clergy about German carpentry.

No. We’re not concerned about events in the Holy Roman Empire in any way.

So, why the meeting?

We always have these meetings. Everything is fine. All quite ordinary, I can assure you.

I see. Well, would you m… Father? Father, I still have some… We’ve lost him, I’m afraid.


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So, more mysteries emanating from the court here in Lisboa. Back to you.

Rupert, can? You? Hear? Us?

This is Rupert Wainscoting, sailing with Captain Bartolomeu Dias. We rounded the southern shores of Africa and headed south once again. It was a matter of weeks before we came to what the sailors are calling the Cape of Storms. I have to tell you that whatever I may have thought of the weather near Cape Verde, it was like being in a wading pool compared to this maelstrom. We’ve lost several men overboard already. The captain has decided to push on, and we’re all hop… <radio cuts out>

Rupert? Rupert? Rupert, this is Nigel in the studio. Can you hear us, Rupert? Captain Dias? Anyone?








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The mood? The mood?! How the bloody hell do you think it is? We’ve got a monarch who’s off his rocker, French troops in Cornwall, and our only ally is Connacht! Connacht for <censored>’s sake. You’d think we could have at least managed Tyrone! Or Leinster! But no… Our dear beloved king makes an alliance with a people who herd sheep on cliff tops and wonder if it’ll ever stop raining!

So, is there any message you’d like to pass to the people of Portugal?

Thanks a <censored>in’ pantload, you stupid <censored>s. If I had me <censored>in’ way, you’d be getting a good <censored>in’ buggerin’ by France yourselves right now! When Castille drops your trousers and gives you a good seein’ to, and you come crying to us for <censored>in’ help, I can tell you where you’ll be told to <censored>in’ go! <Censored>in’ stupid <censored>s! It really does take the <censored>, you know? Really takes the <censored>in’ <censored>.

:rofl: That's about it for keeping up appearances it seems.